


Blue Christmas

by Emily_Sheryn



Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: Drug Addiction, M/M, Pre-show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 15:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18123095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_Sheryn/pseuds/Emily_Sheryn
Summary: Christmas 2013. Steven and Sam haven't met yet and they're both going through difficult times. Written for #StevenAppreciationDay





	Blue Christmas

Steven fidgeted anxiously in the backseat, staring at the back of Culhane's head as he drove. He'd stashed a small amount of coke, just enough to get him through the flight to California, but someone (probably Anders) had confiscated it from his bag before he left. The consequence was that he was already going into withdrawl and would likely be an absolute wreck before he'd even boarded.

"How are you doing?" Culhane asked, looking at him in the dashboard mirror like he already knew the answer.

"Great," Steven answered sarcastically. "The gum is really helping."

"Sorry about that. I'm not allowed to give you anything stronger."

Steven put his head back on the leather seat and closed his eyes, chomping away at the piece of Trident that had already grown stale in his mouth. He missed Ted and he missed drugs. His twin addictions, working in symbiotic harmony to blot out all the dark, ugly places inside of him. He didn't have to feel anything or do anything, just snort and fuck and party.

Except the party was definitely over now, had been ever since he crashed his car into the front gate at the Manor on Christmas Eve morning. After he'd been treated for a few minor injuries, he was called into his father's office for a very long lecture. Blake had finally had it, vowing not to let him leave the house again for any reason except rehab. 

_"I'm a grown man, you can't ground me!"_

_"I sure as hell can. Security's been alerted not to let you off the premises under any circumstances. They haven't received their Christmas bonuses yet, so they're extra motivated to follow orders."_

It had been a long day and in the end, it wasn't his father who convinced him to go, it was Fallon. She had found him at the piano, playing a slow, gloomy tune that matched his mood. They hadn't talked much recently. He didn't have room in his life anymore for people who judged his choices, which she certainly did.

_"Since you've been off with Ted, doing whatever it is you've been doing, I've been so lost. I don't know how to get by without you. You've always taken care of me and let me lean on you. Now I'm begging you to take care of yourself."_

In the back of the car, a tear rolled down his cheek and he wiped it away. His shame and self-hatred over the situation he was in was overwhelming. If there had been anything available for him to dull it with, he would have gladly taken it. Fallon had made him promise to at least try to get clean, but he was sure he would only end up disappointing her.

At least there was still one person who would understand what he was going through. He took out his phone and called Ted's number, disappointed when it went straight to voicemail again.

"Hey, it's me. I've been trying to reach you all day. Where the hell are you?" Steven was growing frustrated and even a little scared. There was a very real possibility that the reason Ted wasn't picking up was because he'd gotten into some kind of serious trouble. He could have been arrested or od'ed.

Culhane looked at him suspiciously in the mirror, probably thinking he was trying to reach his dealer. 

"Call me when you get this. I love you Ted." Steven turned his head to stare out the car window, loneliness hitting him with brutal force, like a punch to the gut. He put a hand over his face and sobbed, gulping for air. He couldn't breath.

"I've got some tissues up here if you need them," Culhane said, frowning deeply.

Steven shook his head. "No, I have some."

"You'll get through this. I know it's hard right now, but it's going to get better for you."

Steven ignored him, leaning back in the seat and closing his eyes again. He didn't need encouraging platitudes, especially from someone who didn't really understand what he was going through. All he could think about was his absentee boyfriend. If they were together, they would probably be getting high and inviting friends over. Their late night parties, which always seemed to stretch into the early morning hours, were some of the best times he'd ever had.

The idea that he might one day look back at his years on drugs as a dark period didn't occur to him. There were things he'd sometimes wished for - close family relationships, a meaningful career, real love - but those were just unattainable fantasies. Happy, non-dysfunctional couples didn't exist in the Carrington world. He would probably screw it up anyway, if he ever actually found someone better than Ted.

When they reached the tarmac, Steven put his sunglasses on and stepped out of the car. Whatever plans he'd once had for his future, this definitely wasn't it. He couldn't entertain any silly daydreams about everything magically getting better when he was trudging up the steps to board the plane. He was facing twenty eight days of sobriety at Betty Ford and it felt like a prison sentence. 

**

"Can I get a cruller with that?" Sam was in line at Starbucks ordering breakfast and spending money that he didn't really have. He should have been saving every dime, but he rationalized that it was the holidays and he deserved to treat himself. 

Outside, big flurries of snow were starting to come down. There was a blizzard on it's way and Sam was grateful to have found a warm place to sleep for the night. His friend had offered his couch. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was better than freezing on a park bench.

"Feliz Navidad my favorite nephew! How are you doing?" Cristal's voice on the other end of the phone was upbeat and cheerful. 

Sam carried his coffee and cruller to a table, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder. "Bah humbug," he groused. "Leo kicked me out last night."

"What?! Nooo..."

"What kind of person breaks up with someone on Christmas Eve Eve? Couldn't he at least pretend to care about me for a few more days?" Sam took a big bite of cruller, chewing it furiously. 

"That's awful. I mean, I knew you'd had a fight with him about the money, but I thought you'd worked it out."

"Umm, yeah. I guess he was still mad about it." Sam would rather let his Aunt think the breakup had happened because of his penchant for borrowing money without asking. The truth was slightly sketchier. His boyfriend of almost five months had actually dumped him after finding out he'd been busted again for shoplifting. 

"I'm sorry. I wish I could be there to cheer you up. I've just been so busy with work that I don't have much time off."

"Yeah, you mentioned that," Sam said gloomily. 

"I love you. Just remember that I'm here for you and you can call me whenever you need to talk."

Sam was barely listening. He was heartbroken and disappointed that his life wasn't actually going in the direction he thought it would. Leo had been like a dream at first - a hot actor who was in the cast of a Broadway production of _Hair_. He'd been so proud of him, watching from the wings as often as he could. There had even been some hints that he might use his connections to help him get a job in the wardrobe department. 

"Sam? Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here." He buttoned his coat and pulled his scarf tighter around his neck, carrying his coffee cup outside into the bitter New York winter. Wet snowflakes landed on his shoulders and he brushed them away, listening to his Aunt talk on the other end of the line about her company's holiday party. She seemed to really like Mr. Carrington, always mentioning how kind and generous he was.

Someday he would live in that world too, one full of beautiful rich people who shared their money freely, like it was growing on trees. He would eat gourmet meals, wear designer clothes, and have sex with outrageously attractive men. No one would ever ask him to pay rent again, or yell at him if some cash went missing from their wallets.

That was the fantasy, but for now he had to live in reality. His friend's apartment was only a few blocks away. If he could make it through the snowstorm there would be a couch to bunk on for the night and a space heater to warm his hands after the cold.


End file.
